Closed All Said and Done (Krisa)

[Zeran]

55th Day of Fall, 513 AV The quake had come, and the quake had gone. Damage had been widespread atop the mountains of Kalea, in the shining city of Lhavit, and many hoped that would be the end. The injured could be tended to, the dead could be mourned, and restoration of the buildings and crops could get under way, intending to erase the tragedy's less permanent after effects. Others had different ideas. The riots had broken out the following morning, ensuring the continuation of the destruction the previous day's earthquake had wrought. Unlike the quake, the riots did not simply come and go. No, the riots remained. Three whole days after the initial disaster, ripping through what ruins remained of some buildings, bringing down others that stood proud as they survived, and turning on fellow citizens. It was one of the few times Zeran couldn't smile. There just wasn't anything he could find amidst the chaos. All he could hear was Rhysol, working whatever craft he prided himself on, humming a merry tune as he did what he enjoyed. Zeran watched from the crowd as the Shinya moved one corpse after the other, placing each one on a raft with as much respect as Dira demanded for those who had newly joined her. For once, Lhavit was silent, not being the joyous, festival-holding city it had garnered a reputation for. There was nothing to celebrate as each raft was set alight and allowed to drift out into the water's embrace, leaving the Tranquil Port, Lhavit and Kalea. The oranges and yellows of the flames cast their glow over the crests of the waves, shifting the sapphires of the sea to ambers, flickering as the stars did. Even in death, the citizens of the city still showed their faith in Zintila as they left her dockyard. And it was that faith that now confused Zeran. A smile had not found its way to him through the calamity, lost amongst the damages, the deaths, the panic, and confusion. How did such a community that worked so close to one another, bolstered by their love and belief in the Alvina and Ethaefal that led them, so easily fall under Rhysol's influence in a single moment of shock? Rhysol exists everywhere, and Rhysol exists in everyone. Words spoken by his mother wrestled their way to the front, bringing memories as backup so he couldn't soon forget them. And through it all Zeran remained silent in respect for the dead who had unfairly had their lives ended over the past few days. It was said Lhex always had a plan, even if Tanroa herself was unable to understand it. Zeran's only hope was that this was one of those times that he had no earthly way of understanding. Gaze lingering on the corpses laid across the Port, and rafts disappearing into the horizon, Zeran turned slowly in the crowd and pushed his way out. "Excuse me. Move. Outta my way please." He didn't feel like waiting for others to make their own minds up, and he was quite happy to make them for them. For now, he had paid his respects and done his pondering. Zeran just wanted to get away and find something to keep his attention off of the events of the last few days. He would likely think himself into a hole again, not returning from it until he had satisfactory answers, and that didn't seem likely soon. Besides, Lady Elena likly had things for him to do. Soon, if not now. I think I might help out with the restorations! Somehow... How difficult can it be to lay a brick? You might be better off helping out to move the debris and rubble before you start trying anything new. Breaking free of the crowd, the remains of buildings atop the cliffs stood tall to greet him. With one final wave to the departed, Zeran took the first step forward in his own departure.

[Krisa]

Krisa remained on the fringe of the crowd as the flaming bodies drifted out further into the water. She heard the sound of grief all around her. Tears has already snaked their way silently down her freckled check. No one deserved to die like this. Krisa herself had almost died. But it wasn’t because of the earthquake. It was the chaos that had followed. Krisa didn’t understand how such a wonderful, and festive community had succumbed to panic like that. Citizen turned on their neighbors raining death down upon the town. All those grieving families, friends and lovers because of the stupidity of mankind.

Death and grief were feelings Krisa knew well enough. The same face always came to mind whenever she remembered those feelings. The loss that had ruined her, and motivated her to find herself in this life, the loss that had killed her and gave her the will to live simultaneously: The loss of her Lemma. She had given her the chance to really live. Even if she didn’t deserve it, she couldn’t waste it. Krisa felt a knotted ball in the back of her throat as great aching sobs threatened to burst from her chest. She had no place here. She had not lost anyone to the riots.

With her heart aching, she wiped at her face to rid herself of the wetness, and turned around, gently asking people to move out of her way. Then she saw a familiar face. ‘Zeran…?’ She’d met him a long time ago when she’d been out sulking about her past. He’d annoyed her because he was so happy and carefree, and she just wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. In fact, she’d acted nothing like herself that day, stupidly, and carelessly killing a bear when she had no use for it’s meat. The wastefulness made her sick…

They still knew nothing about each other Krisa had tried her best to avoid facing the embarrassment by avoiding him. But on a day like this, she doubted it would matter to either of them. He was not smiling today, no one was.

Still, when he began walking in her direction, Krisa felt her heartbeat speed up. He pushed past people, lightly brushing them aside. There was no way he wasn’t going to see her if she tried to walk off, so she waited for him to get close enough and then spoke “Hi. Long time no see, Zeran” She smiled at him sadly “Did you lose anybody?” she asked kindly.

[Zeran]

He couldn't say he was looking forward to the trek back. After all, the city was built atop the mountains, and the port was at sea level. How else did you get from top to bottom without traversing a great distance? Several flights of stairs, or a rope if you were the more adventurous, physically-fit sort. Having troubles with the stairs and pathways up the cliff face proved that Zeran wasn't that type of person. A thin coat of seawater covered the pier, thrown up from the occasional spray of the ocean colliding with the stilts, shimmering in the light. Another step suggested that the pier was dissatisfied with the pace Zeran was walking, and so felt the need the lengthen his stride against his choice, bringing him closer to admire the woodwork and to his knee to prevent any painful positions he would've found himself in from the slip. Amidst the scrapping of his boot, Zeran thought he heard another talking to him, however faint. What a graceful way to start a conversation. Looking about for the one who spoke to him, whilst trying not to slide across the surface again, proved to be a little harder than it should've been. Above, below, in front, to the sides, and under his cloak, Zeran couldn't see anyone who might've been the one to call to him. "Am I being tormented by another ghost now? Last one I met had the decency to introduce herself before playing around." The colours of an Aurist's sight seeped into the world, dancing around the people and environment, intertwining with one another, as he scanned the area for the unmistakable sight of a soul free from the confines of a body. The aura of a ghost was one that stood out amongst most others, even to Aurists themselves. And still nothing came to view. It wasn't a ghost, and it wasn't himself. Waves of deep blues and purples stood in abundance as Zeran turned back to the crowd, gripped with sorrows, grief, and reds of anger, that didn't require Auristics to read. Releasing his hold over his sight, he took note of the few specks of green and yellow that didn't conform with negative emotions that he had grown used to seeing. Lighter colours tended to mean positive emotions and, though it wasn't a hard-and-fast rule at his level, Zeran felt as if he were sucking on something sour at the reasons behind those colours. Even as the colour drained away into the background, a fiery red remained prominent a few steps away from the crowd. A colour often attributed with the Inartans, whose personality matched the boldness of their hair. Not exactly a race that wouldn't speak their mind if they felt the desire. And with it came a familiar face. "Who are you again?" he asked, quickly pulling a smile over his face. "Ah, wait! Don't tell me! I love guessing games. Up until I can't think of any more guesses, then it becomes annoying." He stared for a while. The face was familiar, but that didn't mean he was any good at remembering names to go with them. The redhead was probably someone he had met only a few times. "Is it Red?" he guessed, "I remember calling someone Red once, though they did get a little uppity about it. Was it Priss? Sounds like something that matched them." He thought a moment, and clicked his tongue. "They did become a bit jumpy afterwards though. I think there was a bear involved... Maybe... Prissa? Am I getting close? I think I am." The dampness provided an adequate surface to spin on, as Zeran twirled in thought, until a moment of realisation flashed across his face. "Krisa! That was it! Lady Krisa!" he laughed, overjoyed that he had remembered a name. With no time given to respond, Zeran closed the gap and pulled her into a bear hug. "Appropriate, don't you think, considering the conditions we met under?" The tightened grip lessened as he thought. "Although probably not, considering you got quite a bit snappy with me... Who was the greater danger? You or the bear?" Protesting fell on deaf ears as he released Krisa and backed away. He remembered the two dynamics of the Inartan. Hot-headed and forthright, swapping to scared and shaking. She only seemed to have lost her nerve as the bear approached. Funny how he didn't have that kind of impression when he had started the fight with that bear. "Lost anyone?" he repeated, "I didn't come here with anyone." So he didn't have anyone to lose, casting a sideways glance and catching the flames sailing across the ocean waters. His smile wavered, realising what she actually meant. "Ah, you mean to the quake and the mess that followed," he shrugged. "Not that I know of yet. I haven't had the chance to check. Though Miss Marina was already dead before the quake, so she doesn't count." Smoke ascended into the skies as what remained of the corpses continued to burn, along with the rafts they rested upon. The sights held his gaze a moment longer, before he turned back to the redhead. "How about yourself? You didn't really strike me as the social type last time we met."

[Krisa]

Krisa almost laughed. Almost. If it weren't such a grim day the chuckle she felt bubbling up in her chest would have been released. But is suppressed into a small, but genuine smile. She listened to the strange man talk non-stop, never letting her get a word in. He struggled to remember her name, and Krisa shook her head at every wrong answer. Prissa. What sort of name would that have been? Red was familiar. Now that she wasn’t in one of her odd little mood swings, she could find it rather likeable. Krisa liked nicknames, she found it brought one closer to another. A special little name that only the two shared. And Lady Krisa. What an ironic thing to call an ex-dek. If Zeran had called her that in wind reach, she probably wouldn’t have been able to wipe the look of shock-horror off her face. Finally, after retelling the whole story of the night in a few sentences, Zeran guessed it. His mischievous grin made her feel like he’d remembered it to begin with, but had wanted to make her listen through all of that babbling speech, instead of doing it in his head.

Then he pulled her into a hug. The physical contact was so unexpected that she didn’t have the proper time to react to it. Immediately her mind screamed panic, and her eyes widened. She froze in place going slightly rigid at the touch, but trying very hard not to do anything that would further embarrass herself. She gritted her teeth and thought hard about the fact that this was NOT an attack, this was a PUBLIC place, and she was not a DEFENCELESS Dek. Calm the Petch down. Luckily the tensing of her body, and the quickening of her breathing was the extent of her anxiety on this occasion. Gods forbid if she were to yell, or try to push him.

Still her shoulders didn’t relax again, until he had released her from the uncomfortable hug. It’s over… it’s over… calm down…nothing bad happened. Why would it have? She worked up the peace of mind to tackle her train of thought, and reply to what he had been saying “…Let’s just say it wasn’t one of my best days… I don’t usually have that kind of anger in me… I don’t actually remember much of what I said to you that night…” She told him, feeling a little ashamed of herself again. His continued words about her ‘not being the social type’ sunk her further into embarrassment “…What can I say, people usually don’t stick around. I’m… kind of broken.” She said sounding a little crestfallen, even if her tone was meant to be lighthearted “No… I haven’t lost anyone: no one that counts, as you said.”

Krisa sighed “You’ll have to forgive me for my behavior when we first met. It wasn’t really the best first impression.” She paused, grinned, and then continued, “Hey…Why don’t you call me Red. It’s a fine nickname, who was I to refuse it?”

[Zeran]

OOCI'm sorry for the wait on this one. I hope to be back into things again now.

Each new word only seemed to push Krisa in on herself, further alienating her from the world around. Was this meant to be the same person from the Misty Peaks last season? And why the change in demeanour between then and now? Zeran watched her stiffen, felt it through his hug, and now watched her relax as he had returned to his own spot, listening as he observed. "Oh really?" he asked. "Then what sparked it off that time?" Zeran stepped from foot to foot, unable to stay still, making a game out of it as he dodged the spray of the ocean on to the pier. "It must've been something big to change your attitude, even if it was for just a little while." A laugh escaped his throat, amongst the sobs and sniffles of the crowd, no reason behind the sound. "Are you just going to blame it on being 'broken'? And how long will you continue to do that?" His game had become too easy now. "Besides, what's wrong with being broken?" New rule: he was't allowed to step on the gaps in the planks making up the pier as he dodged the water droplets. "Does it make you any less than others?" Zeran muttered under his own breath as he found his new rule to be a little trickier. Trying to arrange your foot's position before touching down was difficult enough. Skidding on the water layer if you didn't hit flat made it harder. This was fun. "We'll say you're broken," he started. "You've got three choices. Do nothing and stay broken for the rest of your life. Put yourself back together and be who you were." He was gaining speed, growing use to the technique of aligning without slipping. "Or take the pieces and create something new and unique with what Lhex has given you. Doing that only changes how others think of you. Honestly, if they aren't planning on looking past your appearance, they aren't worth it." Zeran's foot came down at the wrong angle, being thrown aside by the pier, and taking its place further from the ground than his head. The planks gave a little as his weight hit them, throwing him back up slightly in protest. He simply laughed from the floor. "What fun is it to conform to what everyone else wants anyway?" A particular, bad-tempered wave had something to say about that, unexpectedly leaping over his face. The sudden rush of cold water sent his arms futilely flailing to his face as he pulled himself upright once more. The droplets that clung to the inside of his throat refused to budge as his coughing failed to work. Perhaps this was why people preferred to conform. Nature was out to get you if you didn't. Clambering to his feet again, Zeran worked on making himself partially presentable again. He glanced sideways as Krisa sighed. "Do I? What for?" He almost scoffed at her reason. "I usually make a deliberate point of ensuring the first impression isn't a good one. Anyone can act for a few chimes to create the perfect first impression, but not a lot of people are good at improvising. You learn a lot more about people when they aren't reciting preconceived lines." She paused, before smiling, seemingly ridding herself of some of the tension she held beforehand. Zeran's eyes widened slightly in shock at her request. "I think you were yourself when you refused. I've been possessed before and you didn't look to be in much trouble at the time." He shrugged, chuckling. "But I've no problems calling you Lady Red again. It's your choice of name anyway." His mood was starting to dampen. Despite not having a direct hold over his abilities, Auristics still worked passively to a much lesser extent, and he could still feel the culmination of the upset amongst the crowds. In normal amounts, it was negligible, as if it wasn't there, but it wasn't everyday an earthquake hit and a mass funeral was needed after. Of course the effects were going to be stronger when they all came together. It just happened to be enough to be noticed. Slipping his astral body out of his hand, Zeran took hold of Krisa's wrist. "Let's go somewhere else," he said. "The depression here is having a bit more of an effect on me than I would like." He made a deliberate point of indicating the space between his own limp arm and Krisa's wrist. "Technically, I'm not touching you Lady Red." He'd learnt this time. Krisa did not like physical contact, but Projection wasn't physical contact. He didn't have enough strength in his astral body yet to do anything more than tug on her arm. Zeran wasn't going to be able to drag her anywhere in this state, but it was a compromise of sorts. "What brought you down to the funeral anyway?" he asked, turning back around and beginning back towards the city. "I came down to do some thinking, and I think I need a weapon!"